


diving into the salt tides

by templecat



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Abusive Parents, And sometimes you need your brother to be there, Angst, Content warning for canon parent/child abuse, Empire Kids, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Look sometimes you just have to yell through your emotions, Post-92
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:41:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22455124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/templecat/pseuds/templecat
Summary: Post-Episode 92.The morning after the Mighty Nein's visit to the Lionette Estate, Caleb and Beau drink some tea, and he helps her to a realisation.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett & Caleb Widogast
Comments: 9
Kudos: 205





	diving into the salt tides

**Author's Note:**

> First Critical Role fic, and I haven't written anything in a long time. But damn, Marisha Ray exposing my emotions and pain like that. I couldn't not scribble something to cope with it, and I love the Empire Kids dynamic.  
> Content warning for discussion of canon issues with Beaus parents.  
> Don't forget to love each other. <3
> 
> Title from Toothpick by Stand Atlantic.D

There’s rain on her face. It’s cold, but dripping softly, not sharp and painful like she wants. The clouds above her float past gently, and she wants to scream at them.

  
This is how Caleb finds her; soaked through, stood ankle-deep in mud outside the inn, face angled up to the sky. It’s a sign that she is well and truly broken that she doesn’t even notice he’s there until he lets out a cough.

  
“What do you want Caleb?” Eyes still closed, fists clenched loosely at her sides.

  
She hears him step towards her, boots squelching in the mud. “It’s early. The sun is barely up.”

  
She tilts her head to look at him, cracking one eye open. He’s wearing a cloak, hood pulled close against his freckled face. The smile she shoots him doesn’t touch her eyes. “Is it still early if you haven’t slept? Or is it still the night before?”

  
He frowns and looks at his hands, worrying at the fabric of his sleeves. “I don’t know.”

  
Beau snorts. “You should, I’ve seen you still sat in front of those books when I get up for a workout. You sleep less than all of us, man.”

  
“That might be true.” He takes a deep breath and drops the fabric from his fingers, looking up at her now. “You should come inside, Beauregard. I want some tea and Caduceus says it’s better when someone else brews it for you.”

  
“Oh, I’m your maid now?” She replies, but takes the suggestion as what it was, an invitation. She throws one last glare at the mellow clouds and follows Caleb inside the inn.

  
It’s too early for anyone to be up yet, even the staff, and Beau wonders for a moment how Caleb was actually planning on making a drink, before he pulls out a tea set and a spell book. He sets both down on a table and begins muttering to himself, fingers dancing in front of his chest. An orange glow starts to swell around the teapot and Caleb lifts the lid to reveal water beginning to simmer inside. He empties a pouch of dried leaves into it and gives it a stir.

  
“I thought I was meant to be making it?”

  
“That was a ruse to stop you from attempting to drown yourself in 2 inches of rainwater.”

  
She scowls, but there’s a familiarity to this that’s weirdly comforting. She’d never had a brother- wait, that wasn’t right anymore. She thinks of those pudgy little hands around her neck and begins to shake as she lowers herself down to a chair. She had never grown up with a brother, is what she meant. She glances at Caleb’s face, unshaven and scruffy, and thinks that maybe she’d have liked it.

  
“Here.” He shoves a mug of steaming tea into Beaus hands before pouring one for himself.

  
She sips at it, burning her lips as she does. It’s not bad. More bitter than she’d like, but it’s warm and fragrant and maybe Caduceus was right. They sit in silence for a moment, Beau waiting for Caleb to start whatever spiel he has planned about what happened the night before.

  
She keeps waiting, and Caleb is topping up his mug again before she breaks. “What, got nothing to say?”

  
Ginger eyebrows shoot up and he lowers the teapot. “I’m sorry, did you want to talk about something?” His face is the picture of innocence and Beau is not buying it for a second.

  
“Did I want to – No, I did not want to talk about something!” She puts her mug down, jabbing a finger towards him. “But you always have something to say, and you didn’t drag me in here for nothing.”

  
“I just wanted some tea.”

  
“Bullshit. You’ve never kept an opinion to yourself a day in your life.”

  
He raises his hands, palms up, and sighs wearily. Beau’s finger jabs again.

  
“See! Even your sighs are judgemental!” She leans forward, and anger ignites in her as he leans back in response, resting nonchalantly in his chair. “How you can you just sit there, and pretend that nothing happened? I thought we were friends, man.”

  
He looks at her. “What happened?”

  
Beau has to stop herself from grabbing the stupid wizard and shaking him. “Me, my Dad? My Mom showing me my new baby brother like we’re a big happy family?”

  
Caleb shrugs. “The kid seemed cute.”

  
The warmth in Beaus chest is no longer just from the tea, and she can feel the heat rushing up her arms and her spine, sharp and itchy. The rainwater still on her skin now feels like it’s boiling, scalding everywhere it touches. “He was cute. He was so, damn perfect, wasn’t he? Mom was so protective of him when she saw Nott’s teeth.”

  
“Well, goblins are known to be aggressive.”

  
Beau stands up, her fingernails digging into her palms as she tries to stop her hands from shaking. “Aggressive? Yeah, you know what else is aggressive? Getting hit in the face by a man twice your size. Getting dragged out of your bed in the middle of night, in your own home.”

  
Caleb remains seated, and silent, looking up at Beau as the words are spat at him across the table.

  
There are tears leaking from the corner of Beaus eyes, and she hates that she still cares enough to cry, hates that he still has this power to hurt her. “How can you just sit there and pretend everything is okay?”

  
He stares at Beau, gauging and evaluating, before asking, “Is it not okay?”

  
Beau explodes. “No it’s not fucking okay! It’s not okay that he hit me, it’s not okay that he said I’d never be good enough!” She’s screaming now and she doesn’t remember when she started. Her whole body is shaking and she can barely see through the haze. “It’s not my fault I was a fucked up kid, it’s not my fault I could never be what he wanted!”

  
Caleb stands up and she grabs him by the shirt with both hands. She holds on tight, not pushing or pulling, and he takes it impassively.

  
“I didn’t deserve to be thrown away like piece of rotten meat! I tried so damn hard! I tried so hard, Caleb!”

  
She’s so close to his face now she can see him blink, and the expression on his face is one of grim satisfaction. Her breath hitches and she grips his shirt tighter. His hands come up to rest on her arms, and her whole body slumps. This time her voice is barely a whisper.

  
“I didn’t deserve it. It’s not okay.”

  
The smile he gives her is no more than a pained up-turning of the corner of his mouth, and he rests his forehead against hers. “I know.”

  
A sob rips from her chest and Caleb’s arms are around her shoulders now, her face buried in his neck. Her chest is shuddering with wrecked breaths, but he holds her steady. She can feel his hand stroking the back of her head. His shirt is wet with tears and snot.

  
By the time she has her breathing under control again the tears have almost stopped. She takes one last moment to take in the feeling of his support around her before she raises her head. His arms drop to her sides and he leans back, holding her hand in his. He uses the other to wipe at her cheek.

  
Her eyes are puffy and sore and she feels like she needs to sleep for a week. She gives him a weak smile. “Thank you.”

  
He squeezes her hand. “You do not have to thank me Beau. I’m not a social worker.”

  
She laughs and pushes his face away with her hand. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” She sniffs and steps away from him, back around the table. She picks up her mug. “Tea’s cold. “

  
“We can make some more.”

  
She rubs at her eyes, sits back down, and hands Caleb the teapot. He sits with her and reopens his spell book.

  
She thinks that maybe Caduceus was only half-right. Maybe tea is only better when your family makes it.


End file.
